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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801547">Ruined</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alllthatglitters/pseuds/alllthatglitters'>alllthatglitters</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MASH (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Claiming, Desperation, Here Be Piss, John F X McIntyre is a Class A Pervert, M/M, Watersports, Wetting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:49:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alllthatglitters/pseuds/alllthatglitters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> "Go on, honey," Trap tells him, leaning back in his chair. "Ya gotta go, don’t ya? Go on.” </em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>"Trapper" John McIntyre/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ruined</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for floodbringer ♥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hawkeye, anxious for time alone after coming off a long shift in post-op, is disappointed to find Trap in the Swamp when he walks in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doing here?” he asks, a sinking feeling in his gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t sound so excited to see me,” Trap says, not looking up from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Popular Mechanics.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were on post-op after me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Frank and I switched. He wants to get off with Hot Lips, he said."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well we all want </span>
  <em>
    <span>that,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hawk says, distracted, sure his evening's ruined as he walks over to his cot and sits down. Taking a quick peek to ensure Trap isn’t looking, he slides his hand into his lap to press against his crotch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn't pissed since lunch and it's well into the evening now, and he's so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>full, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it hurts, and he can feel the hard bulge of his bladder through his belly, swollen with piss. He's been holding for hours, and as much as he enjoys it, it's definitely starting to lose its allure.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks a little desperately. “No hot date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not tonight, dear, I had a headache.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawk whimpers a little as his bladder contracts, swearing he feels a spurt of heat in his fatigues. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hawk, you alright?" Trap asks, looking up in alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-Yeah," Hawk stammers, and raises his hand to his belly, the lie sour on his lips. "Just a stomach cramp. Tonight’s dinner should’ve been dropped on the enemy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap continues to watch him suspiciously, so Hawk rubs his hand over his belly, sending jolts of need through his bladder because he's so full, he's so full-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've got just the cure for what ails ya, Hawk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And fuck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap is holding out a martini.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," Hawk lies, taking the glass from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"May ya never be empty," Trap says, toasting him with his own martini, watching Hawk </span>
  <span>expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawk, despite the fact that he's squirming with how badly he has to piss, his leg jiggling in some vain attempt to keep it all in, gulps it down, barely tasting it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The booze cool in his hot belly, Hawk's bladder contracts again in panic, and he moans, doubling over in pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hawk!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no- I'm fine, really," Hawk says weakly, and then gasps as he leaks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's not gonna make it, he's gonna piss himself in front of Trap- a low breathy moan slips out when he thinks about it, just flooding his pants right here, the mess be damned, Trapper be damned-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I gotta go," he says, standing up, gravity tugging every drop of urine in him to its inevitable release. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn't help that holding it, that holding it in front of Trap, has made him half hard, straining against his shorts, the dampness of his leak electric and cool against hot flesh, and oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wants to wet again, to make warm what has cooled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go where?" Trap asks, eyeing him, as Hawk tries to take two steps towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he can answer, he leaks again, enough piss that he’s almost wet himself, and before he can stop himself, he grabs himself, pressing his hands between his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hawk?" Trap asks, stunned as he watches him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawk giggles a little, shifting from one foot to the other, hands clutched between his legs. “You wouldn’t believe this, but I’m sloshing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And ‘m just sloshed. Ya gotta piss or somethin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawk nods, trying in vain not to dance around like a toddler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well then honey, what are you waiting for?" Trap asks, and Hawk sees that his eyes are huge, his pupils blown with arousal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Hawk breathes, because not for the first time he’s realizing he’s not the only pervert in camp. “You want me to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go on, honey," Trap tells him, leaning back in his chair. "Ya gotta go, don’t ya? Go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawk whines, letting his hands fall to his sides as he relaxes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It starts slowly, Hawk not used to having an audience, spurts and leaks that make his shorts more damp but offer no real relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the warmth of it, and the heat of Trapper's gaze burns through the last of his self-consciousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck," he whines, throwing his head back as he lets go, the spurts and drips turning into a steady stream, flooding his shorts, staining the front of his fatigues, a muted </span>
  <em>
    <span>psshhhhhhhh</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the fabric, the heat blissful around his balls, seeping up against his ass, turning him on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh Hawk," Trap says, and Hawk is panting hard as piss flows down his legs, the scent pungent, his cock fully hard and throbbing in his shorts at the single-minded relief, his fatigues ruined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is, as they say, better than sex, the perfect release.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's still pissing, all that water and coffee and orange juice flooding out in a hot bitter torrent, puddling in the dirt, too fast for the ground to absorb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, finally it slows to a trickle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," Hawk says weakly, though he isn't sorry he just wet himself like a little kid. He's only sorry Trapper had to witness it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap makes a noise in his throat, a low animalistic growl, and then he's standing up, and shoving Hawk so that he crash lands on Frank's cot, which is closest, his ass wet against dry blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Trapper is pushing Hawk's legs apart, and settling between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this okay?" he asks, as if Hawk hasn't dreamed and fantasized about Trapper's mouth on him for almost a year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So okay," Hawk says weakly, reaching for his fly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap swats his hand away. "Nuh uh. Lemme take care of ya."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Trap leans down, almost loving, and starts to suck at Hawkeye's cock through the soaked fabric, probably tasting bitter piss as he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-Oh," Hawk says weakly, his hips snapping up, his hands fisted in Frank's blankets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap's mouth is hot through Hawk's wet fatigues and it's sending little bolts of lightning down his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trap," he whines. "Oh god Trap."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap is still licking and sucking at the wet fatigues as Hawk squirms, as though he's determined to taste every drop of Hawk's piss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought is so filthy, Hawk almost comes apart right there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then a new sensation twists the arousal in his belly-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to piss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trap," he whines, already unbuckling his pants. "Gotta go again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Trapper pulls back, watches as Hawk pulls his hard cock out of his shorts, smelling strongly of piss, smearing gold and pre-come on his belly. "Oh Hawk, you're beautiful."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"H-Hawk?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trap looks down, his cheeks pink. "Can ya piss on me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawkeye blinks, astonishment and arousal twisting his urge to piss into something needier, more intimate. "You want-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wanna taste you," Trap admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawkeye nods, pushing his cock down towards Trap, and waits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trapper's eyes lock on his, and he nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Hawk whines, as a little bit dribbles into the dirt. "Oh sorry, oh-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there's a clear golden stream of relief pouring down, drenching Trapper's curls, running down over his face, and he- oh god, he sticks his tongue out to catch the stray droplets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trap," Hawk can't help whining, his piss still flowing over Trap, claiming him with his scent, marking territory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wanna smell like you, baby, wanna be yours," Trap is babbling. "Wanna- keep going."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawk keeps pissing on him, claiming him, wanting him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My Trapper.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Trap moans, as the stream falters. "Thank you Hawk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good work team," Hawk says, shaking himself off. "Time to hit the showers."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of his piss, both the cooling puddle and Trapper, curls in his nose, rich and bitter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They make their way to the shower tent, where they jerk off in adjoining stalls, Hawk falling apart in a few piss-slick strokes with a muffled gasp, Trapper following close behind, whimpering something that might be Hawk’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, afterwards, the slightest hint of urine lingering in Trap's hair, he leans across the divide and kisses Hawk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, Hawk thinks, kissing him back, his evening wasn't ruined after all.</span>
</p>
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